


Boo Boos & Grape Suckers

by Taybay14



Series: Daddy/Caregiver & Little/Age Plays [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidents, Age Play, Age Play Caregiver Castiel (Supernatural), Age Play Little Dean Winchester, Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Dean Winchester, Cribs, Cuddles, Daddy Castiel, Daddy/little - Freeform, De-Aged Dean Winchester, Diapers, Messy Dean, Mischievous Dean Winchester, Non-Sexual Age Play, Nurse Meg, Pacifiers, Stickers, Stuffies, Suckers, Toddler, boo boos, daddymakes it better, glitter bandaids, shots, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 14:15:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19929409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taybay14/pseuds/Taybay14
Summary: "Not sure whether this prompt is something you’d take up, but what about Dean needing a booster shot for something? Maybe Meg could administer it, as she’s done some nursing, and daddy Cas has to calm our little boy down." -RachaelziThank you so much Rachaelzi for this lovely prompt. Sad little Dean hurt my soul, so I made sure his daddy made him feel lots better after <3 Enjoy (:





	Boo Boos & Grape Suckers

When Dean wakes up from his nap, he’s feeling a little rebellious. Carefully, he straddles his crib railing and shimmies down it. He pauses, waiting for his daddy to come yell at him. 

Nothing. 

Dean grabs his paci and stuffie, tiptoeing across his room and down the hall. He stops at the corner and slowly peeks around it. Daddy is sleeping on the couch.

Now is the perfect time to do all those things his daddy won’t let him do! Dean knows exactly what he wants to do first. He wants to see the big, mysterious basement daddy doesn’t let him go in. The door is left cracked open. Dean is extra lucky today. The stairs are super long and scary, but squeezing his stuffie and sucking furiously at his paci makes Dean very super brave. He even gets downstairs with no problem!

And then Dean is experiencing the worst pain he has ever ever felt in his whole big life!

Castiel wakes up with a start when he hears Dean screaming. His heart races as he follows the sound, dread weighing down his gut when he realizes Dean is downstairs. He thought he had locked it. What a shitty dad he is… he will never forgive himself if his little one is badly hurt.

He finds Dean just a few steps from the stairs, sitting on his bum with his foot in both hands. He’s howling, his chubby face bright red as he screams and sobs. It takes him a minute to even realize his daddy is there. It’s not until Castiel is picking him up and carrying him back upstairs that he figures it out.

Letting go of his foot, Dean grabs onto Castiel with both hands as tight as he can. “D-da-daddy!”

“I know little bee. I know.”

“Owwwie!”

“Shh love bug. I know.” Castiel sets him down on the bathroom counter and assesses his foot. There’s not much blood, but Castiel saw the nail Dean must have scraped against and it was rusty. He’s lucky it didn’t go through his foot, but Dean is still going to need a shot.

And if there’s one thing Dean Winchester hates more than the veggies his daddy makes him eat once a day, it’s shots.

\-----

Dean sits on his daddy’s lap, staring with wide eyes at Miss Meg. She comes over sometimes to visit, and she’s always nice to him, but Dean has trouble. Whenever he looks at her, something in the back of his little mind nags at him not to like or trust her. Now that she has a shot in her hand? He’s made his decision.

Miss Meg is bad. Bad. Bad. Bad.

“No no no!” Dean screams at the top of his lungs as Miss Meg approaches him. “No! No! Nooooo!”

“Shhh,” Castiel hushes him softly, rubbing circles on his back. “Buddy, you have to get the shot or you could get really sick.”

“No!” Dean yells again. “Boo boos jus' needs bandaids ‘n kisses! N-n-no no shots!”

“Oh, baby boy.” Castiel hugs him tight, feeling terrible. “The nail might have had bad germs on it. You haven’t had a booster shot for tetanus, which means you could get very very sick, and then you’d have to go to the hospital.”

“And you could die,” Miss Meg adds, smirking.

Castiel flashes her a death glare. “Not helping.”

But the damage is done. Dean starts sobbing loudly, tiny fingers clinging to his daddy, pulling him extra close. He looks up at him with huge watery green eyes. “Da-da- daddy – I no wa- no wanna die!”

“Daddy would never ever let that happen little bug. That's why you’re getting the shot, okay?”

Dean keeps crying, but he tentatively nods. Miss Meg smiles at him. He still doesn’t like her. Not one bit.

  
  


“It’ll just be a quick poke little one,” Miss Meg coos, giving him a genuine smile. “Then you can get a sticker and a sucker!”

This doesn’t make Dean happy, but it makes him a tiny bit less sad. As Miss Meg comes closer, Dean wraps his arms around his daddy’s neck. He buries his face in daddy’s throat and squeezes his eyes tight tight. Daddy doesn’t complain about all the gross stuff on his face from crying. Daddy never complains. Daddy is the best. That’s why Dean always feels safest right here like this. It’s working a little he guesses… but he’s still really really scared.

Squeezing even tighter, Dean tries his best to stay still like he’s currently being told. He has to do this. He doesn’t want to die! He would be so sad without his daddy! And his daddy would be so sad without him! Dean has to be very brave for his daddy.

Then his daddy starts singing to him. His favoritest song ever. The sound of  _ Hey Jude _ in daddy’s low rumbly voice almost instantly relaxes Dean. Something is nudged against his lips, so he opens his mouth. A paci slides along his tongue. In thanks, he sucks at it happily. His stuffed bunny Mr. Doodle, his current favorite stuffie, gets placed beneath the crook of his arm.

Then there’s a sharp poke, almost like when the mosquitoes bite him at night. It’s not terrriiibblle, but he still hates hates it. And he makes it very clear by crying extra loud.

Castiel’s heart continues to break as he listens to his baby sob into his neck. Snot, tears, and spit are everywhere. His ears are ringing. His shirt is definitely wrinkled from Deans tight grip on it. Dean trembles even after the band-aid is on, but Castiel is fine now that the pain is over. He can get his boy back on track.

“Oh wow! Look little bee! You got a pink sparkly band-aid!”

Dean turns his head just enough to peek at the spot on his thigh where the sparkly pink bandaid is. He'll admit it’s pretty cool, but he’s still upset. Continuing to suckle his paci, Dean carefully places a finger on his bandaid and strokes it. When he pulls his hand away, there are sparkles on his fingertip. He giggles and does it again. Then he lifts it to his daddy’s nose and swipes down it, covering him with pink glitter.

Castiel fakes outrage, which just makes Dean giggle harder. His smile gets so wide his paci falls out, but he doesn’t notice. He just keeps putting sparkles on his daddy.

“You wook so pwitty now, daddy!” Dean informs him when his face is spattered with glitter.

“Thank you, little bee. Do you feel better now?” Dean bats his damp eyelashes, nodding. Castiel grins. “See? Not so bad at all.”

  
  


“Not so bad,” Dean agrees, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. He looks up at his daddy, beaming. “I vewy bwave, wight daddy?”

“Super brave! And guess what?”

“What?” Dean squeaks.

Castiel points to Miss Meg who is holding a small basket of suckers. “You get to pick a sucker.”

Nearly launching off his daddy’s lap, Dean does grabby hands trying to get to them. When Miss Meg comes closer so he can reach, Dean hurries to find a purple one, squealing in delight when he finds it. He waves it in his daddy’s face. “Gwape! Gwape, daddy! My favowite!”

Once Castiel unwraps the sucker for him, Dean pops it into his mouth and sucks it hard. His little cheeks hollow out, a tiny drop of purple spit spilling from the corner of his mouth. He sticks it in as far as he can, letting his little hand rest against his lips. He doesn’t care that the sticky juices are getting everywhere. It’s too yummy!

While Dean practically devours his sucker, making happy noises and doing little wiggles of pleasure in his daddy’s lap, Miss Meg fills Castiel in on what to do for his boo boo to get all better. Dean tunes it out. It’s boring. He decides to hum his current favorite song,  _ Under the Sea _ from  _ The Little Mermaid. _

"Hey little guy. Do you want a sticker too?" Miss Meg asks, drawing Dean's attention back. Dean looks at her skeptically, but nods. She offers him a basket of options. "Pick whatever one you want."

Dean furrows his brows in concentration, then grabs a Mickey Mouse sticker with his free hand. He gives it to his daddy and points to the spot on his shirt where he wants it. His daddy smiles and puts it in the perfect place, making Dean smile around his sucker in clear pleasure.

“What do you say to Miss Meg?”

Dean slowly removes his sucker, purple tongue darting out to catch some of the mess on his lips. He squeezes the white stick extra tight, peeking up at the nurse. He still has this instinct to hate her. But she has suckers. Grape suckers. Stickers too. And she gave him some! She must not be so bad either… and daddy trusts her.

Still anxious, Dean decides to take the safe route by burying his face in his daddy’s neck and mumbling, “Tanks you.”

Castiel chuckles at his boy’s shyness, as well as the feeling of sticky cheeks and lips against his skin. He cups the back of his little one’s head with one hand, supporting under his bum with the other, and stands up. He thanks Miss Meg and walks out of the room, gently bouncing Dean like he knows his baby boy loves when he’s anxious or sad. Dean hums and rubs his sticky face harder into his daddy’s neck, drifting to sleep. Even once he’s out, though, his grip stays firm on that sucker, grape flavored juice all over his tiny fist. He earned that sucker fair and square, and he’s determined to finish it when he wakes up.

Castiel doesn’t argue. He just spends the entire nap staring at his boy, taking in the sweaty hair on his forehead, the flushed cheeks, the slightly parted soft pink lips, the face and hands sticky and slimy, and his little eyelashes fluttering as he dreams sweet dreams.

Dean hasn’t had a bad dream in 47 days.

His biggest fear is shots at a doctor’s appointment.

Castiel has never been happier.


End file.
